


They're So... Heavy, November 30, 1970

by MissAtomicBomb77



Series: For the Greater Good, Let's Do the News [10]
Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-07 09:45:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissAtomicBomb77/pseuds/MissAtomicBomb77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three minutes, twenty seven minutes, she has no idea how long they were there before she feels him kiss her forehead. She makes a move to get out of the tub and he lets her. She finds one of the towels and throws it on the floor to soak up some of the water so they do not slip and she strips out of her soaked nightgown and underwear before taking a second towel for herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They're So... Heavy, November 30, 1970

November 30, 1970  
1:36am  
Charlie and Lee’s Apartment  
Phnom Penh, Cambodia

She keeps looking over her shoulder, down into the abyss of the jungle far below.

“Stop that! Look at me Lee, look at me!” Charlie yells at her, desperately clawing at her arms, trying to get a grip on her, but failing. She’s barely holding on to the edge of the cliff face now, her fingers, her nails scratching at loose rock and dirt. He can’t get a grip on her, his hands are sweaty and he keeps trying to rub them dry against his pants but it’s not working, it’s just not. He’s trying not to lean down much further but if he doesn’t he won’t be able to pull her back up. Just when he has the idea of trying to lay down for some sort, any sort of leverage she finally looks back up at him.

She smiles and winks. That’s when she lets go.

“LEONA!”

Charlie sits up in bed now, tangled in the sheet, every conceivable inch of him covered in sweat. Her name was fading from his lips and his heart racing as if he’d be out running instead of in his own bed. His mind is locked on the thought about how he couldn’t save her. That he wasn’t trying hard enough to save her and that he was going to lose her to the Cambodian jungle.

“Jesus Christ, Charlie!”

He turns to the balcony and she’s there in her flimsy nightgown, grinding out a cigarette, rushing back to bed.

She’s here and he shudders in relief. He starts to grind at his eyes with the heels of his hands partly out of fear, partly out of a slowly building embarrassment. Her hands are on him now, rubbing his cheeks, his head, down his shoulders. He’s not coherent enough to know if the whimper he makes when her touch goes away is audible.

She’s in the bathroom, his mind can faintly hear water running. Then he feels her tugging on his arm now. He finally removes his hands from his face and she’s tugging at him to get up. He wills himself to do so and she drags him into their modest bathroom. Once there, the light blinds his eyes so he’s squinting, unable to see. She’s launched herself into mother mode, tugs at his shorts to undress him and guides him into the tub.

Charlie is more coherent now and realizes what it is that she’s doing and is more helpful now. The water is cold, he’s shaking again, but she’s working to fix that, playing with the faucet until it starts to change. Soon enough she’s found the bowl and starts to tend to him. She starts with his neck and shoulders first, just pouring water over him from the bowl, partly to get the layer of sweat off his skin, but more to relax him as the tub continues to fill.

She doesn’t know what happened in his dream. She’s biting her lower lip now, part of her wants to ask but she doesn’t want to upset him anymore. All she knows is that he was terrified and her name was on his lips. When the water level is acceptable, she turns it off and finds herself caressing his face with one of her hands. She’s about to find the washcloth when she feels him grab her arm and pull her. She’s lost for a moment, but he keeps tugging at her arm and soon enough he’s pulled in with him, his arms wrapped around her, her head on his shoulder. Some of the water sloshed out onto the floor, but it doesn’t matter in that exact moment.

Her head is on his shoulder and his arms are tight around her, holding her head about the waterline. Her nightgown is sticking to her now and the ends of her hair are starting to get wet, but she doesn’t care. Lee’s free hand drifts to his heart and she just keeps it there as he closes his eyes and just holds her close. The tub isn’t made for more than one person and she’s more on him than she’d like to be, but this is one of those times that he needs something from her and she’s not about to deny him.

Three minutes, twenty seven minutes, she has no idea how long they were there before she feels him kiss her forehead. She makes a move to get out of the tub and he lets her. She finds one of the towels and throws it on the floor to soak up some of the water so they do not slip and she strips out of her soaked nightgown and underwear before taking a second towel for herself.

Charlie eases out of the tub and claims the last remaining towel for himself as he drains the water and they amble out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. Once dry they slip into bed, words unspoken. Her back is to his chest and one of his long arms is around her, pulling her close, not wanting to let her go.

Lee wishes that he would talk to her, that he would tell her things. He keeps so much to himself and she wishes that she could say or do the right things to help him not carry his heavy thoughts around. Part of her fears that his need to protect people from… well, from him, is going to be the thing will eventually destroy him. She doesn’t understand why he thinks that he can’t be himself. She wants to ask him what happened that makes him think that he’s unworthy of… his life.

It’s as if he lives with regret, that he lives with something deep and sad that he has no power to change. Her only guess is that it’s why he left the Marines, but she lacks the confidence to ask. His boss, Ed, has told her more than once that she’s done wonders for him and made him less of a moody son of a bitch. She never thought of him as moody. He was cautious, caring, calculated, but never moody. His heart as big as Central Park that was something she knew beyond a reasonable doubt.

She wishes, as his warm breath was on her neck and his breathing eased into that of sleep, she could tell him that he’s loved and people that are loved has the ability to ask for help, to ask for patience, to ask for understanding, consideration and trust. She wished she could just make him know these things without having to say it. However, deep down she knows that they’re playing a game, because if he lets her in, she has to let him in. If she asks to know everything about Charlie, he would have the right to ask everything about her.

Right now, she’s not ready for that.

She’s not sure she will ever be.

She closes her eyes.

She wills herself to sleep.


End file.
